WhatTF?
by Yomar Sonak
Summary: An inexperienced leader is sent into a warzone to manage a group of nine so-called 'soldiers', where he learns a certain rule about the world of Team Fortress: normal logic and common sense do not apply.
1. The Arrival

WhatTF? Part 1: The Arrival

"We'll-a be there soon!"

I continued to stare out the plane side-window. Being at such a great height into the atmosphere, the only visible objects were the high-rise mountains that we were passing over.

"Is-a…something the matter?", asked the pilot.

"Ehhh…", I replied, my eyes unmoved as I shrugged at his question. I wasn't much in the mood for talking, especially to someone whose breath smelled strongly of pasta. Apparently, neither was the man seated in the back, who had remained silent for the entire flight.

Likely seeing that I was not going to speak any further of it, the pilot went quiet as well, turning his attention back to flying the agonizingly small airplane.

To be completely honest, though, I _was_ a bit nervous about something…well, despite the fact that we were flying in an old, tin-can machine that felt more confining than a pack of sardines.

No, what _truly _was making me nervous was my new assignment, for I had been told I would be going straight onto the battlefield…a place that I had never thought I'd be.

What really surprised me, though, was the fact that I was being sent to this…"2Fort" location in the first place. Why would they send _me_? I have very little combat experience…I mean, yeah, I was a fairly skilled leader, or at the very least capable of managing a small group of well-train men, but army soldiers? This was a new thing for me…I had never been in anything _close_ to this kind of situation.

In fact…why were they sending me to this location in the first place? The fighting seems to have been at a stalemate for months, now…had I done something wrong? It is true, I may have come across an…_interesting_ discovery, but was that really the reason for my being sent here?

"Hmmm," I thought, "Knowing the RED organization's intentions…it very well may be."

"*Sigh*…so, how much longer?", I finally spoke aloud. The pilot chuckled, apparently having noticed my lack of communication as well.

"So," he said somewhat sarcastically, "_now_ you are-a wanting to talk, eh?"

I finally turned in his direction, a disdain look across my face.

"Uh…heh, erm…uh, about-a one more minute."

I rose from my seat. It was time to suit up.

"Uh…will you-a be needing any help?", he asked.

"Naw, I can do this myself," I said as I walked towards the back of the plane. I looked over towards the pilot's silent helper as I stepped in front of him, who gave me a funny look. Next to the large sliding door was my equipment, including the necessary outfit for my little "stunt." I quickly donned the suit so I could exit the plane as soon as I was given the word.

Once I was ready, I told the pilot, "Just tell me when."

"Okie-dokie," he stated, reassuring me with a thumbs up.

I leaned over the remainder of my equipment, all placed into small metal crates so the objects inside would withstand the fall. Personal belongings, data on the fighting, profiles of the men I was about to lead…all of it was there.

However, despite all of the plans that were made, all the preparations for after the landing, all the _painstaking_, well thought out strategies for fighting this supposed "war"…_nothing_ could have prepared for me what lied ahead. I was about to be in for a _very_ big surprise once I made my landing…and I don't like surprises as it is.

I was told once I left the base, and I am quoting here, that "You will be dealing with the most well-trained, put together group of men the RED organization has ever seen."

…If that is really the case, then I can only _imagine _just how pathetic the remainder of the RED organization really is.

"Get-a ready!", the pilot suddenly announced. I strapped myself to my backpack, then after taking a long, deep breath, I convinced myself to open the airlock. The door flew open, and as I looked down upon the earth, a certain fear gripped me. I could feel my heart pounding as I placed my hand against my chest, having realized just how many miles I was above the earth. Down below, I could see a tiny spec, which just barely stuck out from the rest of the tan-looking land.

"Well…*gulp*…time to jump," I told myself. But before I leapt from the plane, I decided that I would at least provide the pilot with a quick thank-you for not having crashed us into a mountainside.

"Hey! Thanks for the ride!", giving him a thumbs up of my own as I slowly lowered myself towards the opening.

But before I could exit the plane, he cast a reply right back: "Heh, you-a won't be thanking me once-a you land!"

I was about to say something back to him asking about what he had meant, but then I felt a large kick against my backside, sending me careening out of the plane! Before the wind could cloud my hearing as it swept loudly against my face, I could have sworn I heard another voice shouting, "So long-a, sucker!"

After the exuberant freefall, I found myself heading straight for what appeared to be two nearly identical buildings: a wooden one in the west, and a concrete one directly east of it.

Feeling more and more nervous at the rapidly approaching Earth, I reached for the string on my pack and waited as a parachute was deployed, quickly slowing down the speed of my fall. Considering how the wind was blowing east, I had aimed myself slightly west of my landing spot: the backside of the wooden base. This is the first time that I realized just how ignorant the RED organization was of planning out their war strategies. Had they not considered just how much of a disadvantage they had, even when solely basing an argument on their choice of construction-material?

"Hm…it's becoming much easier to tell that RED is not in the construction business," I pondered aloud.

It was then that I had forgotten something…my gear!

"Oh, crap…I forgot it on the plane!" And that was when had I realized something else was going wrong…I had undershot the strength of the wind! I was going to hit the wooden building!

"Ohhh no…ohhh no-oh no-oh no!" I tried to swing myself further to the east, feeling that I had a chance of recovering from my mistake…but of course, luck was not (as if it ever was) in my favor.

I was heading straight for the large, pointy end of the base's front tower. I narrowly missed the top end of tower, sliding down its side until the parachute grabbed hold of the point, causing me to hang from it like a baby on a playground swing. In fact, if I had been only a few more inches to the right, it would have likely…uh, never mind.

"Uh…hello?", I shouted. "Is anyone there...?"

I waited a good minute or two, hanging from the backpack for someone to come around and provide me assistance. I was hanging above what appeared to be an entirely open, second floor, but I was uncertain of if whether it was safe enough for me to land without causing self injury.

I began to look around, trying to take in the scenery as I tried to think of a safe way down. It was then that I realized just how similar the two buildings appeared to be…the thin layer of earth in front of each, both having a second floor overlooking the ground level…they were almost identical!

At my high position, I could also see a thin wooden bridge connected between the two buildings, which stood above what appeared to be a small moat. Was this…a battlefield? No, I thought, it couldn't be. Surely the fighting went on just outside the fences that surrounded both buildings…for if it _was_ the battlefield, then it was likely the most professional-looking fighting arena I had ever seen.

From what I could tell, there didn't seem to be _anyone_ around…not a single person in sight. No gun shots, no sounds of fighting, not even general movement. All was quiet…that is, until…

*WRRRRREEEEEEEEE!* Sirens suddenly went ablaze, sounding high into the air. I covered my ears in pain at their sheer loudness until they quieted back down, after which I could hear something else…and it sounded like…

Movement! There were people moving nearby! I sighed in relief at the thought of others being close by, but this relief soon turned to grief as I saw something in the distance…

I squinted my eyes as I tried to see what was going on over at the concrete building. There, I could see a fairly large man walking across the second floor, carrying a very large, cylindrical object in his hands. He seemed to have a helmet covering the top of his head…and he was wearing one of the most unoriginal army attires I had ever seen. Well…except for the fact that it was light blue.

It was then that he turned to face me…

"…Oh no."

By the looks of it, the man pointed towards my direction, and immediately shouted towards me, "MAAAAAGGOOOOOT!"

…Maggot? Why was he calling me a maggot? What did I ever do to _him_?

He then threw the object onto his shoulder, and seemed to be pointing it straight towards me…

"Ohhhhh no."

It was then that I found out firsthand just what exactly he had been carrying. A fairly loud blast sounded from across the chasm, and once I saw a round object screaming straight towards me with flames shooting out of its back, that's when I knew: it was a rocket launcher! An honest to god rocket launcher!

"Ohhhh no no no no no!"

I began struggling, shaking back and forth from the roof…no, I don't know what I was thinking either. Perhaps I thought the parachute could somehow rip and tear slightly, magically causing me to lower myself slowly to the floor? Like I said…I'm exactly not sure of what I stunt I was trying to pull.

But as the object started looking larger and larger, I began to realize that I had a choice to make: either I could stay safely in the air and have a rocket crash into my face, or I could make a fairly long jump to the ground and possibly break my legs.

Hmmm…choices, choices….

"I choose life!" I released myself from the backpack's grip, the rocket narrowly missing as it exploded against where my body once was hanging. I fell to the wooden floor, landing facedown onto my stomach. Every part of my body hit the floor at the same speed…and therefore, stopped abruptly just as quickly.

"Ugh…" I moaned, my face lying sideways against the wooden planks. "Should have thought that one through…"

I turned my head to face the concrete building, and within a short moment, suddenly all of that pain had seemed to be of little significance. There was another rocket coming straight at me! No, two!

"Ahhhhh!" I screamed, rising quickly to my feet as I leapt behind the nearby wooden wall.

As I hit the ground, I suddenly felt the urge to shout, "God DANG it! Who uses a freaking ROCKET launcher for fighting in a war?"

"On average? 'Bout one in nine army men," claimed a nearby voice.

I jumped, not expecting anyone to be nearby me. As I looked up, I saw a man clothed in a pair of overalls, who reached his hand down to me.

"Need a hand, partner?" He helped me get back on my feet, and then after I regained my balance, he signaled me to follow him.

"Over here." I followed directly behind him, and as we turned the corner, I saw them.

Nine army men, all wearing red attire. All incredibly unique in both physique and personality. All specialized in their own field of battle…

"Give sandvich back, Sniper! Must use for eating between fighting with enemy!"

…and none of them real fighters in the slightest.

"Hey boys! Guess who just showed up?"

"Is it the new boss-man?"

"Yeee-ep…and he just barely made it, too! That BLU Soldier almost blew him up!"

"Heh, I guess he must've really…_had a blast_!"

"Ha ha ha! That one really _blew me away_, mate!"

All of the men started laughing uncontrollably. I, for one, was unsure what exactly was so funny about me nearly dying, but I supposed that it was simply humor they were making to get over the fact that they could die at any time.

"Heh, stop it mates! You're aboot to make me _explode_ from laughin'!"

"Well, I can take it, maggot! _Rocket_ to me!"

"Ha ha, these things are all just _boomin'_ outta us!"

Or…maybe not. I tried to interrupt their childish jokes in order to make way with more serious business.

"Um…excuse me, I don't mean to butt in-"

"Heh, don't worry mate, yer not! But yer _butt_ ain't helpin' ya look like less of an _ass_!"

"Bah ha ha ha ha!"

…Why couldn't that rocket just have killed me?


	2. The Team

WhatTF? Part 2: The Team

"*Sigh*…what have I gotten myself into, here?"

"Boss? 'Ey Boss, where are ya?"

All of my composure vanished within an instant as soon as I heard someone calling for me. It was too bad; I was enjoying myself for a second there, staring down that long, winding corridor…

I lifted my head to see the Demoman right behind me, who stared back with a confused look in his eyes. Er, eye.

"Oh! There ya are, boyo!" There was quite a stumble in his step…he was just barely able to stand up by the looks of it, let alone walk.

"Soldier…have you been-"

"Oy! I ain't dat mother-frickin'-*hiccup*…mother-friggin' *hiccup*…bloody Rocketman!_ I'm_ da Demoman!"

"Uuugh…yes, Demoman, I know that. I was calling you 'soldier' in the sense that you are a soldier in an army, not directly calling you the nickname of your teammate, _the_ Soldier."

"Uh…heh, Army man? Boy-o, it's _De-mo-man_…Deeeeem-ooooo man…not Armyman."

"Hurrrrrgh," I moaned as I slapped my hands against my face. "Fine. Demoman. _Whatever_. Just tell me what you're wanting."

"…Eh?"

"I'm asking _why_ you came to find me? Surely there was a reason for you to be looking for me, right?"

"…Uhhhhh…*hiccup*…I, uh, I can't very much remember…ha ha haaa!" He began knocking his head with his fist, "Memory ain't really what it used to be!"

…I could feel my frown stretching from one side of my face to the other.

"Oy…guess I've been hittin' the bottle a little too hard lately, eh? Oh well," he shrugged, "'sposin' I be findin' it out soon 'nough…catch ya later, Boss!"

I turned back so I could continue looking down the endless-looking hallway…why was it reminding me so much of this job?

"And Boss! Don't be callin' me 'Shirley'!"

…That was it. Soon as the battle starts, _he_ would be charging alone, at the front of the group as a meat shield.

…I mean head attacker. Yeah…yeah, that's what I meant.

A few moments later, while I was deep in thought, I suddenly got a rude awakening from another one of my men.

"_Mmmaaaaagooot_!"

"Gah-uh!" I must have jumped a foot into the air, then fell face-first onto the ground, all from just the mere shock of his loud voice.

"You!" he continued to shout, pointing his finger inches from my face, "Bossboy!"

"Yes, Soldier? What do _you_ want?" I asked, rising from the floor.

"What kind of boss are you supposed to be?"

"Well, I-"

"Shut it! I'll _tell_ you, maggot! A _pathetic_ one!"

"What? What'd I-"

"Ap ap!" he yelled, signaling for me to zip my lip with his fingers. "Listen you lowlife, lippy, loser of a leader: we sent the Scot to get you just a _few_ minutes ago, and instead of doing what he asks of you, you just chose to lie around and do _nothing_? Get your sad sorry excuse for a soldier self to the spawn safe-house: STAT, scumbag!"

…Yeah, the Soldier really knew how to alliterate.

"_Move it,_ you mumbling maggot!"

"Fine, fine! I'm going! Sheesh…"

I followed him into a small, base-like area nearby, where all of the other men were waiting for our arrival. I guess this was there they held all of their meetings? Judging by the rooms inside the remainder of their base, though, I suppose that there weren't many other choices they could have gone with, anyway.

The men were all conversing about their own little things. The only thing _I _could overhear was the Heavy saying the word "bologna" over and over again.

I was a little…preoccupied, though. The Scout was sitting up on a tall, nearby crate, constantly hitting his aluminum bat into my skull when I wasn't looking, and then as soon as I turned back to look at him he would always pull his bat behind his back, acting as if he was actually being subtle in his little irritating act.

The Soldier began to crack his fists, which apparently signified he was about to speak up. The room immediately went quiet after the men noticed this. At least this meant they were trained to do _something_.

Except for the Scout, of course. He just kept "beating my head in."

Yeah…he was going to be charging right behind the Demoman.

"Alllright then, maggots! Time for this little get-together to get underway!" The Soldier turned in my direction, as if to say that it was my turn to talk.

"Um…okay then guys, I'd just like to say that I am very glad to be a part of-WOULD YOU KNOCK THAT OFF?"

The Scout threw his bat across the room, seeming very surprised that I actually had said something directly to him about his constant annoyance.

"Now…as I was _saying_…it's a pleasure to be here and working with you guys. I'm sure that Command told you all about me, so-"

"Aye! Dey told us you was da new boss-man!", the Demoman rudely interrupted.

"Well…yes, of course. But I'm sure they also told you who I am, what I've done in the past, what work I've done-"

"Yeah," the Scout spoke up, "dat you're da Boss."

"…Yes, I'm the new boss. But that's not who I am, specifically…"

…The room was silent.

"…Did command not even mention what my _name_ was?"

"Uhhh…no," Scout replied.

"Ugh…of course they didn't," I groaned as I rubbed my eyes at how utterly deplorable the RED organization was becoming in my mind. "Well then, just to get formalities out of the way, my name is-"

"Ehhh!" sounded the Soldier, making the noise of a game show buzzer with his voice.

"…My name is-"

"Eh!"

"…My-"

"Eh!"

"Would you _stop_ that, Soldier?"

"Ehhhhh, I don't _think_ so, dumbbell! When you entered this war, maggot, you gave up your _right_ to have a name! You are now, and officially from here on out, to be known as the Boss!"

"What? But that's _ridicul_-"

"Ap ap!" The Soldier threw his palm up to my face, which seemed to signify a "talk to the hand" gesture. "Any further whining may be directed to someone who actually gives a damn…aka, NOT ME!"

I looked at him with a half-scold, half-"what the hell are you doing" expression as he began poking me in the chest. "Now _shut it_, wimpy-boy! From now on, you are to be known as 'the Boss,' and that's _that_!"

I felt like continuing with the argument…but I knew it wouldn't have done any good. The Soldier had a childish personality that could only be described as him whining and yelling until he got his way. Not to mention the drunken Demoman would probably have interrupted me over and over throughout the whole conversation.

I sighed deeply before going on with what I was about to say. "Oookay…fine, whatever. I'm 'da Boss', I honestly do not care. So…was there anything _else_ that command 'told' you about me?"

This time, the Medic decided to answer for me. "Da! Zey mentioned you vere a _vuss_!"

"Ooooo!" the team exclaimed, in a tone that insinuated that I had just been insulted very badly.

"…Wait, what?"

"Zey claim zat you don't even know zee difference betveen a medigun and a kritzkrieg!"

All of the other men turned to me, each having their own shocked look on their face. I couldn't tell whether they were kidding around with me, or if they were sincerely surprised by my lack of knowledge towards these…things.

"Nooo…" the Sniper stated, his face looking grim at the possible truth. "No way ya never heard a' the medigun…right, mate?"

"Uh…" My head was starting to hang low, and I stared towards the ground.

"Whaaa?" everyone gasped at the same time.

"I can't believe it!"

"Dat even _possible_?"

"Why would they hire someone who hasn't even heard a' the _medigun_? Well that's darn near-"

"Oh, stop it!" I finally said. "Don't go acting like I should be prepared for these kinds of things!"

"…It's mighty rude to interrupt someone while they're talkin', partner," the Engineer pointed out to me.

"Whuuu-aaat? But I, but you all, and then you…uuugh, forget it."

Once again, I had lost my composure, and I didn't ever think that it would be possible for me to retain it in front of _these_ people. But…I had been sent here for a reason (even though I wasn't sure of what that reason was), and whether I liked it or not…I had a job to do.

So…I stepped to the middle of the room, straightened out my skydiving outfit (I still hadn't changed after the jump) and went into my phase of where I draw all of the attention in the room towards myself.

"Look. All of you." The men finally went quiet and paid attention…this was my chance; my opportunity to make the impression I had wanted to make ever since I landed onto this base.

"Now…I know that I may not be the most experienced person here, and yeah, I may not know everything there is to know in fighting a war, or firing a rocket launcher, or knowing what a…medgun thing is."

"Med-_uh-_gun," the Scout piped in.

"Shut it." He went silent. "Just…know that even though I'm not the most skilled leader ever, or hell, probably not even the most skilled leader your group has ever had…whether you like it or not, _I'm here_. And, despite what you may think," I continued, slamming my fist into my palm, "I will do my best at leading you, and no matter what it takes, we _will_ end this war. And we _will_ be the victors!"

"…"

Where _I_ was expecting some cheering, or at the very least, some applause…all I was getting was some blank stares and heads shaking side to side.

"Hmmm…vell, zat settles it," spoke the Medic as he flapped his arms once into the air. "Ve are all as good as dead."

"Yeee-ep," everyone else seemed to say and agree with.

"That's it," I thought. "Now everyone's going to charge to their death at the exact same time."

Apparently, the Scout had found himself another bat during my little speech, this time made of wood.

"Bonk!"

…Did I say he was going to be charging in with the team? I meant he'd be charging in with a bomb strapped to him.

The Medic, which at the very least surprised _me_, seemed to care very little, if not at all, about me arriving to lead the team.

"You are…quite the dick, aren't you?" I asked him. He merely shrugged at the statement.

Unfortunately, though, the Scout began to chuckle. "Heh, yeah…dat's why we call 'im da 'Me-_dick_', afta' all!"

Urrrrrgh…

"Ha ha ha ha ha!" Everyone began to laugh insanely.

I, on the other hand, suddenly felt the urge to rub my eyes again…

"Boink!"

…And maybe run in front of a bullet or two.


	3. The Battle

WhatTF? Part 3: The Battle

"Alright, men!" the Soldier shouted. "Are you ready to become victorious once again?"

"Yeah!"

"Are you prepared to take down every sad, sorry, sack of scum wearing a blue-colored uniform?"

"Yeee-ahhhhh!"

"Are you all _really _this confident before a battle?" I interrupted.

"Yeahhhhh!" was the reply.

"*Sigh*…well, I suppose I can't stop you, then." I quickly turned to the Soldier. "So…how does this all go down, exactly?"

"Whuuu-at? You mean you haven't even been briefed on how our battle preparations are carried out? What kind of boss _are you_, maggot?" he screamed, only from a few inches in front of my face.

"The 'getting tired of not knowing what's going on' kind."

"Well then, Boss! Sit your sorry ass down and listen up! I suppose that Command hasn't instructed you properly…that isn't like Command!"

"Heh," I thought, "You really have _no idea_ how Command is run, do you, Soldier?"

"Here's how it goes down, maggot. Every morning at 6:00 am, the sirens blaze and the men rise to prepare for the daily battle strategies! Any sorry maggot found lazily napping afterwards in their quarters…will be shot!"

"Uh…okay." I was finding this all to be rather…disturbing, truthfully. Worst of all, I wasn't sure if this was all a bluff or if he was really telling the truth. Honestly, I would believe it if either turned out to be true.

"Next! We make our way to the cafeteria downstairs for our first meal for the day! Any man that shows up late…will be shot!" He continuously got into my face whenever he mentioned the 'getting shot' part…I think that was his favorite line. "You will be served raw eggs and gruel! And you will _enjoy it_! Otherwise…you will be shot!"

I couldn't help but rub my eyes in mental agony.

"Finally, all men will report to the shower rooms, where we will simultaneously clean ourselves in front of one another in complete shame and displeasure!"

…I would have loved to see my face once I heard _that_ statement.

"Any man that is found to have dropped the soap…"

"…"

"…" What, was he waiting on me to answer for him? Talk about your overly-dramatic pauses.

"…Will be harassed and humiliated for the remainder of the showering!"

"…Oh."

"_Followed_ by him being shot!"

"…Okay. Great, thanks for clearing that up for me, Soldier."

"Are you absolutely _sure_ that you fully understand all of that? Because I could easily explain what would happen, again-"

"No…no, that won't be necessary. If I have any further questions about your…'shooting theologies,' you'll be the first person that I come to."

I turned to the entire team once more. "Well…you've obviously already shown me just how 'well' your time is spent on strategizing before a battle. So…what happens now?"

"Now?" the Engineer stated, "Heh…now we wait."

"Wait? Wait for what?"

*WRRRRREEEEEEEEEE*, the sirens began blasting once more.

"Fer _that_!" All of the men quickly jumped up to attention, grabbing their gear and heading straight for the garage. Above the door, a sign hung with a timer, slowly counting down from one minute.

"Wait, what's going on?" I shouted in desperation. "Is the battle about to begin?"

"Ya bet it is!" the Scout replied. The entire team was running all around the room, looking for their equipment by the looks of it.

"Vat fool took zee kritzkrieg?" yelled the Medic. "I _need_ zat veapon!"

"Sandvich!" The Heavy was screaming to the point where it sounded like he was crying. "Where is sandvich?"

The timer kept ticking, down and down, and with every passing second the team began to get even rowdier and less organized. Once only ten seconds remained, everyone was in a different part of the room, and seemed like they would never get ready. I turned to the clock for a brief moment…6…5…4…and then, when I turned back…there they were, standing in straight lines, ready for battle!

"Wha…? How did-"

"Outta the way, Bossman!" the Scout shoved as he moved towards the door. "I'm the fastest, so if I get outta here fast enough, I can _really_ catch 'em off guard!"

"Whoa," I thought, "These men seem really…organized! They look, act, and feel like a real, honest to god, squad!"

"Here Boss," the Engineer said as he handed me a handheld device. "Use this to communicate with the rest a' us in case somethin' happens, ya hear?"

Wow…actual strategizing? And they were actually _asking_ me to participate, and aid them in their battle? What an amazing turn around!

"If they keep this up," I imagined, "they might actually be able to pull this-"

Before I could finish my talking to myself, however, the timer reached 0:00, and the Soldier shouted, "Charrrrrrrrrge!"

The men ran screaming out of the room at full speed, making their way to the left where I found myself earlier that morning, dangling for dear life. I quickly followed behind them…I just _had_ to catch a glimpse of them in action. It was just so exciting!

As I turned the corner, I barely had time to see the Heavy, Sniper and Spy leaping over the edge. I was so impressed at how they hardly even reacted to such a large fall…it must have been at least a 10 foot drop, but not even a grunt from the lot of them!

"But wait," I realized, "…why did the Sniper jump down with them?"

In front of me was a fairly large wooden wall, blocking whatever was behind it from being seen by the enemy on the other side. I took a small peek around the edge, and what I saw confounded me. Not only was everyone bunched together, and hardly spread out at all…but everyone was still shouting at the top of their lungs, completely ridding them of any surprise in their strategy whatsoever! Even the Spy was doing so…and he wasn't even cloaked! Nor disguised!

"What in the hell are they _doing_?" I whispered loudly. I _imagined_ them rushing out together to die in one fell swoop, but I never would have _wished_ such a painful end upon them!

Then, something caught my eye…something completely across the way, on the other side of the bridge and almost mirrored to my position. It was a man…looking somewhat close to the Demoman on our own team. He was shooting something…wait…were those bombs? As in the same bombs that the Demoman used as well? Those things could take out something several feet away! And he was laying them…oh no…oh no! He was placing them directly in the path of the REDs!

Quickly, I pulled out my communicator as I saw the team fool heartedly run to the other side of the bridge. Worst of all, at the angle they were at, they couldn't even see the Demoman placing his trap just above their heads! They were goners unless I could get a hold of them…

"Come in, REDs! I said, come in! Does anyone read, over?"

"…"

No reply whatsoever.

"Please…somebody…anybody! Come in, do you read?"

All I could keep thinking to myself was, "No…no…no…" over and over again, until…

"Goodbye, ya bunch a' losers!"

*KABOOOOOM*

"Nooooooooooo!" I shouted into the air, watching as tons of blood and limbs flew across the landscape.

My legs collapsed…I felt myself dropping, and I was barely even able to place my arms in front of me before my entire body gave way and hit the floor. "No…no, it can't…it can't be…no…not like this…_not like this_!"

I could hardly even contain myself. For a moment…I felt like I was even about to cry. They were gone…all gone, in the blink of an eye. What kind of boss _was_ I…? I couldn't even protect a single member of my team…

All of my regret and guilt began rushing into me, and I just completely lost hold of any dignity I had left. "I'm sorry…I'm so sorry, men! I couldn't do anything to save you…I'm so sorry!"

I began to weep openly. "If…if only I could have told them sooner…hrgh…aaaaaugh! I'm so, so sorry! You're _not_ terrible soldiers…I'm sorry I even _thought_ that! If only I had a second chance…if only I-"

"Awww, look at the wee little whimperin' man!"

"Wh-…wha?" I turned around to see…the men! All of them, standing just behind me! They were alive!

"Ugh…enough whinin', ya cry baby!"

"But…but how did? How did you-"

"Shut off the waterworks, you Whiney McWhinerson! See? This is _exactly_ what happens when you don't pay attention to your briefings with Command!"

"I…huh?"

"*Sigh*…listen, partner," the Engineer said as he approached, "this is just what happens: we fight, and then sometimes, we die. Then, we come back to life, and we fight some more."

"…Wait…what?"

The Engineer patted me on the back. "It just comes with the territory."

I slowly picked myself up from the floor, though still not entirely sure of what was going on. "So…wait, you guys can…never…"

The entire team shook their heads. "We be immortals, lassy!", the Demoman chuckled. "Ain't it just brilliant?"

"Ohhhh man," the Scout joined in, "Ya shoulda seen the look on yer face! 'Oh…look at me, I'm the new boss guy'!" he began to poke fun while making a baby face and skipping around the room. "'Respawn makes me cry! Boo-hoo-hoo!"

Apparently, the rest of the team found this hilarious, and I found myself, once again, as an outcast. My tears were now being replaced by a frown that spanned the entire lower half of my face, and I began to walk away between the other team members in a very displeased, annoyed fashion.

"Hey, where are ya goin'?"

"…I'm just gonna go and drown my sorrows."

"Just so ya know, lass," the Demoman shouted as I was nearing the doorway, "The lady's drinks are in the cellar!"

I came to a halt, and just stood there, with my back to the rest of the team.

"…What makes you think I wasn't using that phrase in the literal sense?"

I then continued my long trek down to the basement.


	4. The Edible Equipment

WhatTF? Part 4: The Edible Weaponry

"Heavy…what are you doing?"

"I prepare for upcoming battle!"

"But…you're just making a sandwich."

"Not just any sandvich…_the _sandvich!"

So…this was how I was to spend the remainder of the day: running around the entire base, trying to locate each and every member of the team, and decipher what on earth they were carrying into battle as of late. I was provided with a previous list of weaponry, no doubt left here by a previous leader who had likely done himself in just to be rid of this retched place. All men listed their basic weapons, tools, and guns that they chose to bring with them when entering the frontlines, and I can honestly say that they were some of the most ridiculous weapon choices I had ever seen…but I decided to at least give each of them a chance. After all, they seemed to be at, the very least, skilled at using such weapons. The Heavy and his minigun were a prime example.

"Noooo!"

"What? What's wrong?"

"Mayo is gone!"

"…" His sandwich-making skills were a close second, apparently.

"No doubt BLU Spy has taken mayo…" he stated in a serious tone, as he slammed the refrigerator door shut. "He will pay soon enough."

"…So, Heavy. It says here that you have…let's see, a shotgun?"

"Yes, and no. I no longer bring shotgun into battle, for room is necessary for the sandvich!"

"Wh-…what?"

"Both shotgun and sandvich not fit into pack! Choice was made, and sandvich came out victorious. As do I, in all my battles!"

"Uh huh," I thought to myself, "your team's failure earlier today sure proved that, now didn't it?"

"So…instead of a close-range, high damage-dealing, shotgun…you prefer to bring meat and bread."

"And veggies! Lots and lots of tomato. Sandvich makes me strong and powerful!"

"Ooooof course it does. Now…what is this, 'Sasha', listed here?"

"Ah! Sasha is best teammate to bring to fight!"

"Um, alright. So, _who_ is this Sasha, then?"

"Ha ha, silly little man. Sasha is minigun!"

"Oh…I see." Naming your weapons…that wasn't a very good sign for one's mentality. Then again, here I was, describing a man preferring some turkey and bologna on bread to a gun. I sighed openly…what did I ever do to deserve this?

"But! I use Natasha most recently."

"Natasha? Another minigun, I can only assume?"

"Yes, this is true. Sasha and I…we have decided to kill other people."

"…Uh huh. That's…sad to hear?"

"Yes. Natasha is partner now. Sasha and I remain friends, though."

"Ohhhh boy," I thought. "It sounds like the Heavy actually believes he is dating his weaponry. Hmmm…augh, no! No! Bad thoughts, bad thoughts! Thoughts about holes in minigun…just, just no. I regret ever going there, and I shall never enter that void in my mind again! Never!

"So, uh, Heavy. I'm just gonna put down 'minigun' as your primary weapon, and-"

"No! Natasha is my weapon, and you shall place _her_ name as current weapon of choice."

"But, Heavy-"

"No! You do this. NOW."

"…*Gulp*." He gave me an evil, rage-filled expression that filled my heart with fear and thoughts of endless suffering. He clenched his fists, making the painful noise of bones rubbing against one another. And his eyes, just by looking into them, portrayed the deep, terrible darkness that lurked within his soul, detailing to me just by his glance of how he would pummel me into the ground and rip my body parts to shreds if I didn't do exactly as he said.

"…So. Natasha it is, then."

"Yes, is best. Now leave…is our alone time."

There are several reasons why I booked out of that room…and to be completely honest, I am still not entirely sure of what I was afraid of more: getting totally annihilated by a man roughly twice my size, or witnessing what I could only assume to be a minigun makeout session.

It took me only a couple of minutes until I unfortunately came across another team member, the Scout. Honestly, though, I couldn't truthfully state that running into _any_ of the team's soldiers would be seen as a 'fortunate' occurrence.

"Scout, could you hold on for a brief moment? I need to ask you what weapons you currently have for use in battle."

"Oo! Glad ya here then, Boss! I got somethin' _terrifyin'_ for ya!"

"Oh…joy. What is it?"

"It's my new shotgun, bozo! Check it out, I call it…da Force a' Nat-yuh!"

"The…Force of Nature?"

"Pfft, no man! That sounds stupid. Like this; Force. A'. Nat-yuh."

"The…Force a' Nature?"

"Pfft, moron."

"What? What'd I do?"

"Whateva', man, close enough."

"…Oooookay then. So, how does it work, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Oh, check it! Let me just pump a few a' these bad boys in there…uh huh."

Hm...quite an interesting specimen, I had to admit. It appeared to be just like any average sawed-off shotgun, but its rather long length and wider-than-average barrels seemed worthy of a closer look.

"Alright! Now…just gonna point this at the ground, and-"

"Wait, what?"

*BAM* "Ack, whoo-hoo!" *BAM* "Yeah, nngh…awesome!"

"Good lord, my ears!" Much to my surprise, the Scout had shot himself into the air, and quite literally I must add, with such sheer power that he completely overcame the force of gravity, flying an entire foot above his peak jump! How traumatic of a force that had to be, I imagined. This thought proved to be quite true, however, for the Scout's right arm seemingly hung lazily by his side after he made his landing. He appeared to be in quite a lot of pain, especially in the area of his right shoulder. "Hey, you alright?"

"Huh? Oh yeah man, just…nngh, dislocated my shoulder. Hang on…urrrrrrrrgh, AHHHH!"

…Terrifying. The sight of a man trying to thrust his upper arm back into its socket is not a pleasurable one to behold.

"Ah…there we go, good as new!"

"Wait…please tell me that doesn't always happen."

"Naw, man. It's only like, a 10-90 chance."

"Of it happening?"

"Heh, _I wish_!"

"*Sigh*…alright then, Scout. Is there anything else besides your new wooden bat that-"

"And ball!"

"And…ball?"

"Yeah man, gotta knock a few asshats out with a baseball before I clean their clock!"

"Uhhhhh huh."

"Hey man, guess what?"

"…What?"

"Boink!"

"Ack!" Damn that Scout…

"Heh heh! Man, you gotta learn to dodge that. Oo, that reminds me! Check _dis_ out!"

It's a…can of soda? "What in the world is this?"

"It's _Bonk_, man!"

"Ow!"

"Bonk energy drink!"

"For God sakes, quit it!"

"Heh, knock what off?"

"The _bonking_!"

"Heh, alright! Boink!"

"Ack, quit it!"

"Awwww, boo friggin' hoo! Look at me, I'm the big bad Boss-man! Bonkin' makes me cry!"

"Would you knock it off already? Just tell me what this Bo-…what this 'drink' does."

"Heh, it makes me move faster! Doy!"

"Wh-what?"

"Check it! *Gulp gulp gulp*! Hngh!"

"No need to crush the can with your head, Scout. No one here is impressed."

"Well man, I just…just…heeeee heh heh heh…"

"What the…what's going on, Scout?"

"Heh heh heh…hurrrr eee hee hee hee!"

"Gah uh…" This is getting kind of creepy, I must admit.

"Brrrrrrr-agrbbaggrbagbrgabgaba!"

"Holy severed poodles of doom!" He began jumping all over the room, from the floor to the wall, up to the ceiling! If I hadn't known any better, I would have claimed that he had been possessed by Daffy Duck while on crack.

"Igottago! Gottago, gottago, gottago, gottagorightnow! Movemovemovemovemove! Whoopieeeeeeeee!"

And just like that…he was gone.

"Hm. Weir-"

"Gahhhhhbrrrrrabgbagbrgba!"

"HOLY-!"

"Bonkbonkbonkbonkbonk!"

"Gah! Ow, ow, ow…ugh, my head." Within that moment, it had felt like a thousand baseball bats had struck me simultaneously.

"Haha! Bonkedyoubad, knockedyoudown, manthat'ssad, takethatclown! Nowjust give…meeeee aaaaa. Sssssseeeeeec tooooooo-"

"What in the world is wrong with him?" I thought. "You know…besides everything else that is clearly messed up with him.

"-caaaaatch uuuuuuuuup."

"Are you okay?"

"Juuuuuuuust giiiiiiive meeeee aaaaa seeeeeecooooonnnnnd, aaaaand I'llllll beeeeeeee back to normal! Okay…okay, I'm good, I'm good."

"Wha…what in the-"

"Awesome, ain't it?"

"…" I just walked out of the room. I mean, there was nothing I could even _begin_ to say, let alone ask about…_that_. Under 'secondary weapon', I just wrote down 'speed.'

If anyone even _did_ happen to read that list, they likely just thought I had meant the Scout's 'incredibly fast speed', anyway.


	5. The Questionable Weaponry

WhatTF? Part 5: The Unnecessary Weaponry

"Pyro…what in god's name is this?"

"Muh mmairm mum!"

"Uh huh…listen, I can't understand a word you're saying, so would you _please_ remove that mask that you're wearing?"

"Muh mum mmoe…"

"Listen! _You_ are the soldier here, and _I_ am your leader!"

"*Groooan*…"

"You will do as I say, or else-HOLY!"

"…"

"…Uhhh…"

"…"

"…Um, you may put your mask back on."

"…Grmmmff!"

Within that short moment, I had realized why the Pyro chose to wear a complete flame-retardant suit and mask.

"So…I assume this is a flare gun?" The Pyro simply nodded in reply. "I'll just…put this down as a replacement for your shotgun, then." Another nod. "Sooooo, thanks." Once again, I awkwardly left a team member after discovering far too much than I ever needed to know about them; it must have been an all-time record.

Afterwards, I decided that I needed to locate someone, _anyone_ that wasn't a complete and total lunatic; someone that appeared to be at the very least kindhearted, and willing to help me along on my enduring mission as quickly and easily as possible.

"Boss!"

"Oh…hello, Medic."

"I 'ear zat you are taking account of ze men's veapons. Come vith me."

"Um…alright."

…What on earth was I thinking when I followed him?

The Medic led me to a couple of doors at the end of a long hallway, far below the main courtyard within the fort. Roughly painted on the doors were two poorly made red crosses, which led me to believe that the RED team's clinic was inside.

In the past, I had heard certain people speak of how surgical work could relate to a profession of art and sculpting. Many stated how wonderfully designed the human body was, and how amazing and beautiful it could appear, even on the inside.

"Um…nice crosses you have on the door," I pointed out.

"Danke," he replied. "I made zem myself."

…Clearly the Medic did not feel the same way.

"So…zis is vere all of ze magic happens."

As I stepped through the doorway, my jaw could only drop in complete fear and terror. The walls were covered in blood. The floor was covered in guts. There were countless amounts of dark red stains all over the furniture, curtains, gear and medical equipment.

"…I'll just be leaving now," I whimpered.

"Ohhh, I don't zink so!" He dragged me inside, as I could all but try to swipe at the air at the smallest chance of freedom from his grasp.

"As ze new Boss, you must learn of all ze veapons I 'ave and zey're little intricacies, including 'ow each of zem vork." He released me at the center, where everything was darker and much deeper-coated in god knows what.

"Zis…is my medigun. Pay close attention, for I know of 'ow little your tiny mind can bear to understand all at vonce."

"Um, okay," I quietly said. I could hardly try to make a comeback, let alone raise my voice at the Medic; I was completely overcome by the fear of being in a room similar to those you see in a very convincing horror movie.

"As you can see, zis attachment reaches to ze backpack, vich sends a special kind of charge into anyvone I vish. Zis charge comes from a special energy…zat I 'ave 'arvested from ze blood of our enemies."

"Um…that's great, Medic…"

"I know, isn't it?" he replied with a creepy smile, just to replace it back to his normally disturbing frown. "Vonce I 'ave developed enough charge in ze backpack, I can send a powerful force into both myself, and my…'patient'. Ve become completely indestructible-nay, _invincible_!" He was beginning to lose the very few bits of sanity that still remained within him, as he thrust his arms into the air, looking wildly around the room and gesturing at every word he spoke.

"Zen, ve charge _directly_ into ze frontlines! Ze patient tears ze enemies to shreds, hee hee…or, blows zem up! Oo, oo, or even better…_mutilates_ zem limb from limb, ah, ha ha ha! Ze blood…ze organs…zey fly all over! Red…red _EVERYVERE!_ Ahhh ha ha ha ha haaa!"

He grabbed at my shirt's neck, throwing my face into his own, shrieking, "Is it not ze best zing you've ever 'eard of?"

"…Eep!"

"Yes…yes, zat is good." He had regained his composure…lord almighty, thank you for _that_, I thought.

"Now, if you vould excuse me, I must get back to vork. Chop chop, off you go!" he urged, as he rushed me out of the clinic.

"Ohhh, don't say 'chop chop'," I quietly moaned.

"Simply leave vat I 'ave down as my veapons for now. Everyzing is essentially ze same. Good-bye!" He slammed the clinic doors shut, and I heard some quick movement behind the door as I could only assume that it had been locked.

I couldn't even imagine what had made him so eager to throw me out of there so quickly…nor did I ever want to.

A few moments later, though, I ran into possibly the last person I wanted to see.

"Teeen-hut, maggot!"

"Oh, god damn it."

"What are you doing down here, you slacking, sloth son of a bitch? You should be preparing for tomorrow's planned attack at the crack of dawn!"

"*Sigh*…I'm kind of busy, Soldier. I'm taking account for everyone's weapons for the-"

"Ah ha! Well, why didn't you say so in the first place, maggot? Let's move this meeting to the armory, where I can show you _firsthand_ just how powerful my weapons can be!"

"Auuuugh," I quietly groaned. "When will this torture end?"

The Soldier marched us all of the way to the team's armory, which was thankfully nearby to our previous location. The less yelling and swearing I had to hear from the Soldier, the better.

"Aaaaaaand halt! Abouuuut face!"

"Uhhhgh, just show me what you-"

"Quiet, you quivering quiltman!"

"…What?"

"Ap ap! Icks-nay on the SHUT THE HELL UP!...nay. We…have arrived!"

I took a gander at what the armory had to offer. All of the team's weapons were safely stored…in a bunch of thin, wooden, easily-accessible-to-anyone cabinets. I could feel my eyes twitching uncontrollably at the mere sight of such a genius containment of weapons.

"Take a fine, hard look! Is it not the best, most majestic set of weapons you have ever seen?" The Soldier took a long, painful to hear, sniff of the air. "Ahhh…I _love_ the smell of smoke and freshly burnt skin in the morning! Doesn't it just make you want to tear a man's still-beating heart out of his chest as he screams in terror?"

"Urrrbuhbuhbuhbuh…" thoughts of the Medic from only a few moments ago came rushing back to the front of my mind, causing me to shudder nonstop.

The Soldier sighed deeply and arrogantly. "What's wrong with you _now_, maggot?"

"I-"

"Hold that thought!" he exclaimed as he thrust his index finger into the air. "I…smell something."

"…What is it?"

"Hmmm," he sniffed. "It's the distinct aroma of…ME NOT CARING! Moving on now, maggot, take a look at this fine piece of work!" He reached over to his cabinet, which was obviously his due to the endless amounts of red and white striped wallpaper, and pulled out a large rocket launcher. "I call it…the Direct Hit!"

"Ummm, okay. Why?"

"Because, soldier," he whispered as he moved in closer, "as it states so secretly in a subtle, yet surprising saying…it is _meant _to hit people _DIRECTLY_! Good _god_ son, what in sam-hell is wrong with you?"

"Nooo, no, no! I meant, why not give it a more _creative_ name?"

"Whuuu-at? War is no time for _creativity_, or _imagination_, you pathetic excuse for a leader!" He made quite an amazing whiny voice when he spoke such words.

"Clearly he had some previous practice in order to perfect it", I thought. "…Oh god, now_ I'm_ alliterating too!"

"If you're one of those hippies with their little rainbows, and their 'BFF's', and their days of endless frolicking through fields of flowers, then _you_, sir, are in the wrong place!"

"You're telling me," I silently agreed.

"However!" he interrupted, "I must note that the Direct Hit is _much_ more difficult to perform rocket jumps with!"

"Wha…rocket jumps?"

"Yes, of course!" I gave him a blank stare at his statement, which was becoming a staple when it came to our conversations. "Nooooo, _nooo_, don't you go telling me that you don't even know what _rocket jumping_ is!"

"Sadly," for both of our cases, "I do not."

"Grrrr…fine, you babbling brainless boss! I will explain this simple fact to you! I…the _Soldier_…you still with me here?"

"*Sigh…*"

"-shoot a rocket at my feet, and before it comes into contact…with the _ground_...you know what the ground is, maggot?"

"Yes-"

"Because that's _exactly _where maggots like you come from!"

"Yes, I know what the grou-"

"I could easily explain to you what it is if you don't already understand!"

"Yes! Yes, I get it! Just hurry it up already!"

"-when it hits the ground, I _jump_," he stated as he showed me what a jump is supposed to look like, "which makes me shoot several feet into the air because of the powerful blast from the rocket! Got it, maggot?"

"Yes, I get the _idea_, but the physics behind it is just-"

"Enough of your stupidity, monkeyface!"

"Muh…what?"

"Just zip it! I've had it up to _here_ with you!" He motioned his hand up towards the ceiling. I was fed up with him to the point of the moon, myself. "Now, is there anything _else_ that you somehow misunderstood that even a simple halfwit would get?"

I began to look around the room, just to look at anything…_anything_ that wasn't the loudmouthed annoyance standing before me. It was then that I spotted a trumpet and flag that were lying on a small backpack on the top shelf of his…'storage container.'

"Alright, Soldier. What is that trumpet for?"

"Ah! Thatis my Buff Banner!"

"Buff Banner?"

"Buff Banner! I use it to rally our troops in their darkest of hours! It has been scientifically tested and proven…by the Engy," he whispered, "to provide overwhelming sensations in our men, allowing them the necessary bravery they need to charge head-on and courageously into enemy lines!"

"…So, it's a trumpet."

"A trumpet that can buff our team! And much more than _you_ ever will, I can safely say!" he yelled, as he slammed his rocket launcher straight into the ground.

"Ugh…do you at least carry a…shotgun, or something, along with it?"

"What? There may be enough room for a rocket launcher, a backpack, a shotgun, a pickaxe-"

"…A pickaxe?"

"-and several rockets in your little, _'imaginary world where everything is possible_,' but this is the _real_ world, maggot! Before the Buff Banner was conceived, I may have been able to, but not anymore! My team is simply too important compared to my need for a wimpy little shotgun! Now…is there anything _else_ you're wondering about?"

"Well-"

"Then get out of my sight before I blow you to kingdom-come myself!"

I gladly obliged, and as he straightened himself and pointed directly to the exit, I happily stepped out of his so-called armory. I could only imagine why every single member of this team disliked shotguns. The Soldier, the Pyro, the Heavy…each tossed it out for something else, all for something that made absolutely no sense in terms of usefulness in a gunfight. For all I knew, the Scout would probably be next, and change out even _his_ shotgun for another pistol or something…

"Pfft," I thought, "like _that_ would ever happen."

"And I _don't_ want to see your sorry ass asking about this equipment again until I perfect my newest ingenius equipment!"

"Ugh…I'll be sure not to, Soldier."

"You'd better! These Gunboats are almost complete! They'll allow me to rocket jump without burning my feet, and they only weigh a mere 65 pounds! Suck on that one, maggot!"

He then proceeded to slam the door shut in my face.


	6. The, Just, Why?

WhatTF? Part 6: The…Just, Why?

"So…let me get this straight, Demoman. You…a user of grenades-"

"Yeee-ep."

"-who has skills that revolve entirely around being able to lay traps, as well as harming enemies around corners-"

"Mhmm."

"-thereby making you a special kind of soldier, who is, basically, specialized in any and all kinds of indirect combat-"

"Yeee-ah?"

"-…have chosen a small, wooden shield that barely covers any part of your body, and a sword so large that it will, without a doubt, slow you down immensely, as your replacement weapons to bring into a gunfight?"

"Dat would be correct, boyo!"

"So…you don't see _anything_ wrong with this picture?"

"Nnnope."

"You can't see it? You can't tell that it just _might_ be a bad idea for the indirect fighter of the group to bring close-combat-only weapons into battle? And that one of the grenade launchers you use, namely the kind of weapon that you _specialize_ in, will be replaced by a wooden shield that looks like it'll shatter if a single bullet, let alone explosive, flies into it?"

He took a large swig of his whiskey, then quickly replied, "But it be _fun_, mate! And ain't dat what all a' dis is aboot? Havin' a grand ol' time with yer teammates?"

"…I won't even begin to say what's wrong with that statement. Just…have fun dying out there, Demoman."

"Aye, will do, Bossy!"

…Bossy? I couldn't help but groan.

"As always, it's been a pleasure." I left before he could make another quip at my expense.

Suddenly, after I left the Demoman to drown himself in alcohol, I felt a slight easiness come over me. Right next to the Demoman's bomb shop underneath our base of operations was the Engineer's garage, who was just about the only person on this entire team I could even bear to be in the same room with. Scout was annoying, Soldier was _god-awfully_ annoying, Pyro couldn't be understood, Demoman was always drunk, Heavy couldn't stop talking about food, Medic was…_insane_, Sniper was a complete idiot, and Spy…wait, the Spy? I hadn't even heard him speak yet.

"Come to think of it," I thought aloud, "Where in the world _is_ the Spy?" I hadn't seen him around since he ran to the same death as the rest of the team this morning. I had never even heard him speak…where was the Spy hiding, and what kind of level of stupid could _he_ possibly have possessed?

Before I could finish thinking it through, however, I found myself already at the entrance of the Engineer's workshop: a simple, large garage door. The sound of what I could only guess to be a drill saw could be heard from within, suggesting that the Engineer was hard at work on another new device.

"With any luck," I hoped, "it'll be a replacement for every single member of this godforsaken team." I knocked as loudly as I could, hoping the Engineer would hear.

"Lord knows it wouldn't be hard to program a machine more _intelligent_ than them."

Fortunately, the mechanical sounds on the other side of the door came to a halt. Within a few moments, the garage door was pulled upwards and the Engineer stepped on through, having a welder's mask on the top of his dome rather than his usual hard hat.

"Well, well, if it ain't the Boss man! How ya doin', partner?"

"Ugh…same old, same old. Yelled by a Soldier here, scared to death by a Medic there…"

"Hm…that's a darn shame. I think ya could really start to likin' this place if ya just tried to see it from our point a' view, Boss."

"From the point of an insane lunatic?" I thought. "No thanks."

"…So, Engineer…I'm here to check on what new weapons you've got cooped up in here."

"New weapons?"

"You know, if there's any kind of different weaponry that you're bringing out onto the battlefield instead of your standard shotgun and pistol."

"Ahhh, so yer doin' the Quarterly Arms and Equipment Checklist, or as we've been callin' it 'round here, the QAEC."

"The…quake? Yeah…sure."

"Well then, just give me a moment and I'll be right back with a couple a' my new gadgets." He turned around and walked to the back, and as far as I could tell, his little workshop appeared to be quite gigantic. Near the entrance, I could see a bright, circular light emanating from a fast-spinning device that was spinning around its center. I had seen one earlier: the Engineer's custom designed teleporter, a wondrous device that, as several RED members proved already, clearly worked.

"Alrighty then…here's two of 'em right here, partner."

"…Huh." I was…dare I say it, _puzzled_ by the sight of the two items. It could have been due to how I had become so used to seeing things that were either completely random or just plain ridiculous, but the two pieces of equipment that he held out in front of me were just a different looking shotgun, and a simple joystick attached to a satellite device.

"Sooo, what exactly are they?"

"Why, this here's my Frontier Justice. Basically, it's a scoped shotgun."

"Simple enough."

"Yeee-ep. And _this_ is my Wrangler. This little doohickey can let me control my sentry from anywhere I want, in case an enemy's outta range, or if I just wanna do some target practice. Plus, it gives my sentry a nice n' protective shield to protect it from bein' shot up! Pretty nifty, ain't it?"

"Indeed it is. Well, I'll just put these two down then…is there anything else you'd like to show me?"

"Well…I'm gettin' to work on another kind a' sentry gun, but it ain't quite finished yet…but besides that, there is _one_ other thing I could show ya…"

"…But?"

"But it'd be better if I showed ya what it was…_firsthand_. Just hang out here fer a sec," he told me as he put the welding mask back over his face. "I'll be right back."

He closed the garage door behind him.

"What in the world could _this_ be?" I wondered excitedly. Judging solely based on his machines he built, such as the dispenser or teleporter, this could be anything!

From out of nowhere, I heard a drill saw being turned on in the background of the workshop. I could only ponder at what he was doing back there.

And then…

"Grrrr-AUUUUUGH!" A blood-curdling scream shot out from within the garage, which definitely sounded like the Engineer's voice.

I pressed my ear up to the door. I could hear some heavy breathing for several seconds, followed afterwards by complete silence. I was about to open the door to see if the Engineer was even still alive when I started to hear other noises. The sound of a power drill…a hammer…and after a few minutes, I could hear footsteps coming towards the garage door once more.

I quickly stepped back, eagerly waiting in both fear and anticipation at what might be coming through that door.

Suddenly, it flew open, and before me, stood the Engineer.

However, something was…_different_.

"So…how d'ya like it, partner?" The Engineer reached his glove hand into the air.

"How do I like wh-…ohhh. My. God."

He was holding up a metallic-looking glove. However, the glove was very…thin. The finger sockets looked like it couldn't fit onto the smallest of fingers. And that's when I realized…

…It was no glove.

"Ain't it just the purtiest thing ya ever did see? I'm gonna have it finished up by the week's end."

"Is…is that?"

"…What?"

"Did…did you…"

"Cut my hand off?" I slowly nodded, agonizingly. "Well…yeah. Heh, I kinda _had_ to, partner, to get this little baby on."

"Wh…bu-but _why_?"

"Well, my new lil' sentry gun's gonna need a way to control it, so…best solution is this lil' thing right here!"

"It…seriously?"

"Yeee-ep!"

"..." I let out a long, drawn-out sigh. "Thank you for your time, Engineer. I'll just be leaving, then."

I glanced down at my weapon sheet. "What should I put this…_hand_, down as then?"

"The Gunslinger."

"Hm…clever. Good-bye."

"Later, partner."

He closed the door back down, and I slowly slouched my way over to the staircase. I couldn't believe it…I just couldn't, for the life of me, believe it. Even the Engineer had completely lost it. It was official; everyone on this team was mentally unstable. Was this just what war did to people? I, for one, could only hope that it wasn't.

Just wanting this long day to finally come to a close, I decided to go find the Sniper. I heard he was keeping watch on the enemy base tonight, so I started heading towards the top floor at the outside of the base.

There was nothing, I had thought, _nothing_ that could possibly be as bad as what I just witnessed. Chopping your own hand off for a metallic replacement that did absolutely nothing that a normal hand couldn't do, a wooden shield less than a foot in diameter…I wasn't expecting anything useful from then on out, surely…

"But there couldn't possibly be _anything_ as bad as what I had just seen, right?"

"...Right?"

However, a short moment later on the outer balcony…

"*Snort*, Nooooo! NOOOOO! Does not compute! This…makes…no…SENSE!"

"What is it, mate?"

"THIS! _This_ is it! This is the final straw, you idiotic piece of shit!"

"…What?"

"You tell me what this is!"

"…"

"TELL ME WHAT THIS FREAKIN' THING IS!"

"It's…just jarate."

"Jarate? JARATE? It's a _yellow fluid_, flowing around inside of a glass jar! Is this what I think it is?"

"…"

"Well? IS IT?"

"…Well, what do you _think_ it is?"

"Gah…ack! Grrrrr…THIS…is a YELLOW. FUCKING. LIQUID! I swear…I swear to GOD, Sniper…if this is really what I believe it to be..."

"…It's piss."

"Oh…oh, oh my god. You've…you've done it, Sniper." I dropped the jar to the ground, seeing as how I had lost all control of my hands as my body twitched and turned in strange, crazy gestures. "Garba racka frickin'-"

"Careful, mate, can't have ya breakin' that."

"You! Youuuuu…shut it! You have…without a _doubt_, chosen the _worst_ possible choice of equipment, ever conceived! Ever. In the history of mankind, nay-the entire _universe_!"

"Well, what's wrong with coverin' yer enemies in piss?"

"…GAHHHHH!" I exclaimed as I pointed my finger straight into his face. "YOUUUUU!" I tried to regain my composure. I calmed myself down, and began to think of _any_ remaining happy thoughts I had left that had nothing to do with my present location.

"Alright…so, at the very least, tell me…_tell me_, why you carry a jar of urine around with you."

"To _piss_ off the enemies, mate!"

"…"

"Well, ya know what they say, Boss. It's better to be pissed off than be pissed on-"

"Shut it! Shut it you, _youuu_, YOUUU…BLARGLE-FLEEGIN HAFFLE-BERGER!"

Being in a complete state of rage, I had sort of lost myself and forgotten most of which that had followed within the next few seconds. Except for a…_few_ minor places in my speech, where I can only assume that I was cursing uncontrollably, I believe it went something like this:

"WHY? Why is everyone around here so ******* useless? I'm gonna ****** **** the ******* out of your ******* ******* all the ****** **** way to ****** ******** ***********, and _then _we'll see who's ****** covered in excrement!"

"…Why're you so angry, Boss?"

"You! Are carrying around! A jar, _filled_ with bodily waste, from what I can only _assume_ to be a human being! _That's_ why! And you are telling _me_, that this isn't a COMPLETELY USELESS…THING, to be carrying around with you?"

"…" He began to look down his scope towards the other side of the bridge.

"Now, you listen to me, you complete waste of time and space! Your little 'bow and arrows' were bad enough, seeing as how we're in a _warzone_, not some super-secret hunting ground to go hunt for some freaking deer. And your wooden shield…ohhh no, let's just say that I'm starting to lose my patience when it comes to soldiers using crappy wooden shields as a defense against guns and explosives. But this…_this_ is what broke the camel's back!"

"…Huh? Sorry, wasn't listenin'."

"…"

"Did you say somethin' 'bout my back?"

"…"

"'Cause that's the whole reason why I've got my Razorback, here-"

"Nooo! Just…just, no! No more terrible puns for you! No more…_anything_ for you! There is absolutely no! Reason! Why! You! Should have this! None. Absolutely…none. And for the love of god, tell me you haven't given up room for something else in your pack…just so you can hold this…junk."

"…Well, now that you mention it-"

"…" My constant frowning was really starting to hurt.

"-I _might a' _left my SMG back in the armory so I could carry one a' these."

"…" My hands couldn't help but make a gesture of what strangling him would look like. I had to space myself between me and him…for his _own_ sake, so I moved away from the wooden enclosed space and into a more open area of the balcony.

"You…you have done it, sir! You have made me…completely, and utterly…lose any sanity I may have left!"

"Uh, Boss-"

"Not now! No more speaking, or talking, or _anything_ from the moron sitting directly in front of me! I am going to ensure that, for the next few days, your life will be a living _hell_!"

"B-boss-"

"Shut it! _You_…I don't even know what I'm going to do with you, but whatever it is, I can _assure_ you that it will be filled with torment, pain, and misery!"

"Boss?"

"I said! Shut-"

*BANG*

"Uhhh…uhhhhh…uhhhhhhhhhngh. Pf."

I hit the floor before I could finish my anger-filled sentence. I had been shot…in the head.

And it hurt. A lot.

"…Tried to warn ya, Boss."

I wanted to keep on screaming at him, but seeing as how I was brain damaged at that point in time, I could only manage a painful moan from my then-malfunctioning lungs. And, for the first time, I had discovered what it was like to die. Unfortunately, however…it wouldn't be my last.

Not. Even. Close.


End file.
